


The Power of Suggestion

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Filming Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-20
Updated: 2005-01-20
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See  patsie's lj for the pic she scanned that inspired this. Or, even better? Buy the book to appreciate the photographer's other work first hand. The book is called "Precious." Posted because I lied to  sistersluge and thus she said I had to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Suggestion

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).

The power of suggestion is not a trifle thing.

_A parcel arrives in the late afternoon: something heavy wrapped in nondescript brown packaging, opens up to reveal a book._

_Precious._

Suggestion can sway the tide of great wars, shift the balance of power.

_A slip of paper peeks out from the top of the glossy sheets, a simple bookmark of sorts. His fingers slide across the sharp tops of the sheets, slicing skin and drawing blood. The pages are stiff as they fall open, and the picture is before him._

_His trembling fingers shove into his mouth even as the paper falls to the floor and the book nearly topples._

To utilize the power to the maximum capacity, subtlety is often used.

_The salt of his blood clashes with the chemical smell of the paper, and still he stares, stomach quivering, even as his ears prick to listen for the sounds of disturbance, the sound of company. He doesn’t feel it, but he’s aware that his pupils dilate, letting in more light, and the bright room tilts, or maybe that’s his head spinning?_

_Maybe it’s the jaunted angle of Dominic’s neck craned sideways like a child asking a very complicated question, his lips just open, waiting for an answer._

_Waiting._

But on occasion caution must be thrown to the wind, and suggestion must be harnessed full force to get the point across.

_He’s not even aware of the zipper sliding down, doesn’t half feel his dry palm chafing his cock, two three brushes of skin until he’s solid._

_His sigh is swallowed as he spreads his legs, and lets his feet fall from the rung of his chair and land on the floor. The ice of the wood panels are a shock to his system, so heated is he by the organic stripes of black blue and yellow, like paint-based snakes writhing across golden lean flesh._

_He bites his lips—Dominic’s eyes are so dark, and teases his own skin some more._

If the suggestion takes root, the effect is comprehensive, and the victim is irrevocably spoilt, which is in fact the motive in the first place.

_The burning licks up his thighs, like the smear of red-blush paint that laps at sharp hip bones, a sharp contrast from the smoky striped pants Dom’s wearing, a palate of dark hues against golden blush and then—merry yellow and blue contrast on limp suspenders which fall gracefully down either side._

_Billy covets._

One would only beware of the consequences of the entire affair, for what to do when the path is irreversible and the suggestion is all that there is?

_Three, four shaky jerks and he’s exploding from the fiber of his soul up and out, choking back sweet nothings, as he struggles to keep the mess from marring the book._

Precious.

The wind is disturbed as a door closes somewhere in the house, and but Billy can’t feel the breeze on his skin.

Glassy eyes stare down onto the honey wood grain and the white paper, focused on the typed font centered onto the small slip.

“Do you miss me?”

Yes, the power of suggestion is a trifle thing.


End file.
